


Something wicked this way comes

by sharkinterviewee



Series: So you've stopped worshipping the old gods (and started dating them) [1]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Creepy, Developing Relationship, Eerie, Eerie vibes, Ego is a celestial and not an eldritch god, Eldritch, Eldritch God Peter Quill, Extrasensory Perception, F/M, Families of Choice, Gamora has ESP, Gamora has powers, Getting Together, Horror Elements, I've been on a spooky kick of it lately, Love, Movie: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Ominous Lovecraftian Undertones, Peter on the other hand, Post-Guardians of the Galaxy (2014), Post-Movie: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Romance, Supernatural Elements, Worldbuilding, Zehoberei have supernatural senses, cosmic horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 04:21:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19099627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkinterviewee/pseuds/sharkinterviewee
Summary: It is strange, Gamora thinks. How one can seem so world weary and innocent, how one can carry so much weight and past in their eyes, while being this open and trusting- this full of life. It doesn't make sense that someone could be so broken and in need of protecting, so wholesome and full of love and dangerous in ways she doesn't think the others have fully grasped, thatanyonehas fully grasped.He's full of contradictions, this Peter Quill.Sometimes he's smiles and laughter, nothing but song and dance that puts her at ease, making her feel lighter than she has in years. Sometimes he's eerie quiet with a darkness just beyond his eyes, something ageless and cold, the likes of which she's never seen. Sometimes he's all hurt and sad looks, a disconnected knowledge and awareness that he's frightfully good at hiding, an expression as he looks at people like he's learning from what's not quite like him, learning how to act as one of them.Sometimes he's a sinking feeling that puts her on edge, raises the hair on her arms, that he knows more than he should, a subtle uneasiness that something about him is not of this world, that he's somethingwrong.





	Something wicked this way comes

It is strange, Gamora thinks. How one can seem so world weary and innocent, how one can carry so much weight and past in their eyes, and still be so naive and trusting- so full of life. Yet here he is.

It doesn't make sense, that someone could be so broken and in need of protecting, so wholesome and full of love and dangerous in ways she doesn't think the others have fully grasped, that _anyone_ has fully grasped. 

He's full of contradictions, this Peter Quill.

Sometimes he's smiles and laughter, nothing but song and dance that puts her at ease, making her feel lighter than she has in years. Sometimes he's eerie quiet with a darkness hiding just beyond his eyes, something ageless and cold, something that she has never seen before. Sometimes he's all hurt and sad looks, a disconnected knowledge and awareness that he's frightfully good at hiding, an expression as he looks at people like he's learning from what's not quite like him, learning how to act as one of them. 

Sometimes he's a sinking feeling that puts her on edge, raises the hair on her arms, that he understands far more than he should, that subtle uneasiness that something about him is not of this world, that he's something  _wrong._

The way he'll incline his head, blink, as if normal behavior is something he has never seen before, something for him to observe, and he watches from an otherworldly perspective as if people are a curiosity to him, an idle amusement.

Then he'll snap his head back and laugh, smile so warmly, and every eerie air about him is replaced by a draw you in sense of trustworthiness, the spark of life back in his eyes, and it seems like everything about him before was just a trick your mind had played on you, because this is Peter, Peter is normal.

Gamora tries to convince herself of this, but before she can even start believing the fictions she tells herself she'll catch him again, as little pieces of otherness slip through, and it sends chills down her spine. When something makes it through the cracks and she's frozen to the spot, unable to move or even breathe.

Then Peter has his hands cupped around his mouth, so his voice travels to other end of the Milano, yelling at Rocket to stop pulling apart his ship, and Rocket's shouting back that he's making 'improvements' to his ship, and in the flicker of a moment the spell is broken, like it never happened at all. 

Just like that and the room is back at ease around him, but her heart is still racing, and she can't make herself look at him for the rest of the evening. For fear of what she'll see.

* * *

Zehoberei have always been known as a species particularly attuned to... the otherness. What is not of this world, this universe, this reality. What should not exist. The things that don't belong.

And something about Peter doesn't belong.

* * *

She thinks maybe it's the answer when they meet Ego. After everything goes down, and Peter's biological father's celestial nature is a known quantity.

But that's the thing. Celestials are special- have that certain quality about them- but they are  _supposed to be._ Not like the otherworldly creatures that filled her stomach with such dread, like the wraiths of the lake that terrified her as a child, like Peter.

There was something off about Ego, just as Gamora could sense. Of course Celestials had their own sort of- frequency, a resonation that she was able to recognize. It hadn't been that long since her last encounter with it. Gamora could still feel the remnants echoing through Knowhere, millennia after the Celestial had been decapitated, its power and soul evacuating its body and leaving nothing but an empty husk behind.

She could pick out that weird celestial feeling on Ego too. But darkness and evil had its own energy. A menacing dread that had a much more subtle manifestation, especially from one older than time itself.

It had almost been too late. When Ego had been not only messing with Peter's head, but manipulating everyone in a way that was hard to grasp even miles removed from the situation and after the Celestial's death.

Things like spirits from all the dead bodies in the caverns of his core were not something she was able to miss, usually, try as she might.

Gamora almost fell to her knees when she saw it, felt the full force of what had been escaping her perception, just out of the corner of her eye. It made her want to throw up when she and Nebula found them all. Chilled her to the bone.

They needed to leave. They had to get off this planet.

She needed to get Peter out of here.

* * *

In the aftermath of Ego, how broken he is over Yondu and the truth about his mother's death, how much comfort he needs- it puts things into perspective for Gamora. Regarding Peter.

She is now more certain than ever about the otherness of Peter. Something that is definitely not Terran or Celestial, and not even close to a mix between the two.

No, there's something else, in a whole class of its own.

She is certain of it. He doesn't belong.

Just like she is certain of the fact that he is not wrong.

There is something about him that is other, something dangerous that he hides. There are parts of Peter that still no one but her has picked up on. Something cold and ancient and frightening, something that doesn't fit, something that shouldn't be.

She is certain that his heart is genuine, that he feels too fully, that he is not like the rest of them, that he loves them fiercely and always tries his best. He takes care of them because they are his friends and family, and the kindness he gives them is because he understands how much they all ache for love maybe a little too much. He hides things from them because he doesn't want them to be worried, and he tries to shoulder so much responsibility so as not to burden them.

She is certain that Peter Quill needs to be protected. She knows that with all her heart.

He doesn't belong, but he is not wrong. Of that Gamora is absolutely certain.

He doesn't belong, but he is hers. That she knows.

* * *

Her heart is racing, pounding in her chest. She's made up her mind to ask him.

A part of her thinks maybe she doesn't want to know. Maybe it's better to be ignorant.

But here's the thing- she thinks she might love him. And this unspoken thing between them- if it's ever going to be more than that, she can't just ignore the parts of him that she's been picking up on all along, choosing not to acknowledge what is so clearly there and never going away. Gamora can't keep pretending, not anymore, not if this is shaping up to be something real.

And yet-

The parts of her that senses these things, the little girl who was terrified of the wraiths of the lake- is so afraid she doesn't want to know.

* * *

It's the dead of night when she approaches him, sliding the door shut behind her to keep this conversation private.

There's no chance of the others overhearing, but still, she whispers. “What are you?”

“Gamora?” He asks. His affectation is one of innocence and confusion. It's seamless, really. It actually bolsters her, how utterly believable his response is. Cause she's seen the way he understands things he shouldn't, how he knows things he's not supposed to know, was just unnatural. His completely convincing play at innocence and ignorance was so well done it would have gotten her too, except Gamora knows to trust herself. How good he is at it only bolsters her.

“Quill. I know you are... something else. Not celestial. Do not doubt me when I say I know,” she says, deadly serious.

Peter's face falls, his expression going into that almost blank and curious observer that is definitely otherworldly, that presence of something watching and trying to learn from mere mortals, creatures of flesh and bone. Dropping the carefully crafted pretense of being normal just by relaxing the look on his face, what he lets show. The otherness filtering through, slipping past the cracks.

Except it's not gone in the blink of an eye like usual. He doesn't go back to normal. He just... looks at her. Watching.

Her hair stands on end at the vacant and yet disturbingly present look in his eyes. It's chilling and unnerving, and suddenly Gamora's filled with this deep seated dread from him again, but she tries not to let it show.

She decides to be honest with him too, to start that sharing. “I can feel it. What you are. Coming from you. Or maybe, it's more accurate to say I can feel what you are not. Some individuals are more sensitive to such things. Some species are too. Like Zehoberei. They can sense what is... else. If you want anything to continue between us, you will not lie to me. You will tell me the truth, and you will tell me now. What are you?”

Peter considers her with a disturbingly childlike air, trying to gauge her in this moment, and she holds his gaze, standing strong, even though her blood has turned to ice and she is _afraid_ , an ancient fear encoded in her DNA, the blood of her mother and father and their ancestors before them because this isn't natural, this isn't right, what's standing before her.

“I don't know,” he says slowly. “I'm... different.”

He breaks his eyes away from her, and she feels like she can finally breathe again. Gamora swallows, heart still pounding, and he keeps his eyes fixed on the floor.

“Okay,” she says.

“Okay?” He looks back up at her, and this time he looks like Peter again, something fragile and scared in his eyes, vulnerable and frightened.

She shakes her head in disbelief, a choked laugh escaping her throat, just shrugging, because this was crazy, and it is what it is, and there's nothing left to do but laugh. “Yeah,” she confirms, smiling and nodding at him now. “Okay.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah. This happened.
> 
> I guess I'm turning this into a series, cause I have 0 self control. I've already started working on the next fic, a follow up to this one, and it goes much deeper into the whole Eldritch god thing and yes it is a pwp and yes it does involve tentacles because what do you expect from me???  
> But it's also fluffy with more humor than this fic, while still keeping up the creepy/unsettling vibes and eerieness. It's already over 6,000 words, and not done yet, so it'll be way longer and much more fleshed out. (ps. comments get me really hyped up about writing)


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